


Call Me Darling

by nonbinaryezrabridger



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Don't copy to other sites, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Healing from trauma, Love Confessions, Mental Health Issues, POV Alternating, Past Underage, Suicidal Thoughts, full tw in author's note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29711568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryezrabridger/pseuds/nonbinaryezrabridger
Summary: The last thing Leah wanted was to fall in love again. She was already heartbroken over one person, she really doesn’t need any more emotional issues. But their plane crashing into the ocean and leaving them stranded on an unknown island wasn’t expected, and neither was Leah falling in love with Fatin. However, the most unexpected event of all might just be that Fatin actually loves her back.
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke, Past Jeffery Galanis/Leah Rilke
Comments: 10
Kudos: 93





	Call Me Darling

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt writing for this fandom and this ship, but I really love these two, so I'm happy with this story! I kind of wanted to keep writing but I also wanted to keep it canon compliant (except for the ship not being canon). Once season two comes out I may write more, maybe even make it a series or something.
> 
> I was slightly worried about portraying Fatin, as a white person I wanted to try and avoid a couple things: first, I didn't want to oversexualize her. She's a sexual person in canon so I wanted to keep that aspect to her, but also not push it too far. Secondly, I didn't want it to seem like I was making her Leah's therapist. Obviously it's not her job to "fix" Leah. So I wanted to balance her supporting Leah through her canon mental health issues but once again, not push it too far. If you have opinions on how I did, good or bad, feel free to leave me a comment. If you feel I haven't handled Fatin's characterization well and have landed in racist territory, and you choose to tell me, I will do my best to fix the fic or just take it down.
> 
> TW for this story:  
> There is discussion of Leah's past underage relationship with Jeffery, including Leah's thoughts on the issue, but there is nothing explicit. However, it is treated as a traumatic event and I write Leah coming to terms with the fact that she is a "victim". There is also graphic discussion of drowning, as is canon. Leah is suicidal for a small part of the story, and as such has suicidal thoughts as well as general self hatred issues. There is also slight animal death by fire in one of the metaphors I use. There are some descriptions of drug use, as in the canon gummy bears situation. Brief mentions of blood, on a canon typical level.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

\------------------

Leah is sitting on a ridge made of the black sand that seems to be everywhere on the island, though this area has some determined golden grass clinging to life in the unforgiving ground. The strands wave in the winds, occasionally tickling Leah’s legs gently. The ridge is close enough to see the beach where they're camping, giving Leah a quick way to check that everyone’s okay, while still being far enough away to be somewhat private. After they all shared the THC gummy bears, they had spent a couple of hours playing games and talking together. Then they had drifted apart, some people going into the woods to go to the bathroom, others eating some of their precious rations. Some of the girls went in pairs and others broke off on their own. 

Leah had ended up alone, which isn’t a surprise. She is alone often, and usually because she chooses to be. Her thoughts are so all consuming, sometimes she doesn’t have room to do anything else but think. Talking to others can be painful when she’s barely able to control her own mind. But right now, surprisingly, she doesn’t feel overwhelmed. She is coming down from a pleasant high, and for once she feels almost relaxed, despite her all consuming heartbreak and the general fear of being on a deserted island, struggling to survive.

Leah hears the soft shifting of sand under bare feet and turns to see Fatin approaching. She’s strutting like she usually does, even the island not taking away the swing of her hips, as if she’s on a catwalk, or maybe a high school hallway filled with lust-consumed teenage boys she’d like to seduce. 

Despite the rocky start to their relationship, they had reconciled, and Leah is starting to like Fatin. She never thought she would, knowing how the girl acted at school: like a perfect copy of the stereotypical mean girls immortalized in popular teen movies. But Fatin is not like those characters, who are truly one sided, empty headed cardboard cutouts with nothing hiding behind their perfectly shaved legs, stiletto heels, and short skirts. But people aren’t characters, and even Fatin, queen of the high school popularity contest, is a human being with many facets. Leah is learning to see those parts of Fatin, and to her surprise, Fatin seems to be looking back with an equally sharp glance, taking in parts of Leah that she might not have expected her to see.

Fatin swans over to Leah, obviously still pretty high, and sits at her side. Leah doesn’t lean into her, but she doesn’t want to pull away either. Fatin grins out at the ocean that Leah was looking at before Fatin came over, as Leah looks at her. Fatin stares out over the water for a long moment before throwing her head back and stretching her legs out, making herself comfortable in a sinuous, smooth movement that isn’t necessarily sexual. But the arch of her back and the tensing of her thighs isn’t not not sexual either. Fatin almost seems to be the “born sexy yesterday” trope. She moves like she was made to be seductive, she wears lace thongs even on the island where society can't judge her, and she almost always makes a joke sexual if the chance is given to her. Probably, Leah is just jealous of Fatin’s confidence and pride in her body. Leah has always seen herself as fighting against her body, rather than living peacefully with it.

Leah has always found girls sexy, though she wouldn’t say Fatin is her type. And, with her continuing heartbreak, she wouldn’t have thought she’d be paying any attention to the other girl. Even so, she feels the burn of attraction low in her stomach. She shakes it off; she’s attracted to many people, it doesn’t have to mean anything. And she’s pretty sure Fatin isn’t into her. 

Her thoughts on the topic somehow come out of her mouth, her relaxation smoothing the way for her curiosity. As she says it, she wonders if she’s the cat who’s so often made an example of, killed by sticking its nose where it shouldn’t. Nonetheless, she asks:

“You know, for someone who acts so sex obsessed, I’m suprised you haven’t propositioned any of us yet.”

Fatin grins and says in a joking tone:

“Is that a come on?”

Leah almost feels like a middle schooler again, thinking about kissing her best friend for the first time, caught off guard by the possibility of kissing girls instead of boys. But she manages to recover quickly enough to not hesitate before she replies. After all, Fatin is just joking, right? So Leah says:

“No, I’m wondering if you only fuck boys? No judgment, you do you.”

Fatin smirks, pulling her legs back in towards her torso to sit cross legged. She leans in towards Leah like she’s telling a secret, but says loudly, without shame:

“No, I have plenty of experience with many genders. And honestly, Leah, if you ever did want to blow off some steam? I’d be totally down.”

Leah manages not to look shocked; maybe it wasn’t just a joke. She is surprised; somehow she hadn’t even considered someone like Fatin being attracted to sad, paranoid, aggressive, lonely, heartbroken Leah. But then Leah never thought anyone was attracted to her. She didn’t see herself as desirable, even though both Jeff and Ian had wanted her. But Jeff was, maybe she can admit now, not attracted to her solely because he liked her and thought she was hot. Maybe she was also an easy target. And Ian had been her best friend for years, so his feelings weren’t a surprise. But he wasn’t exactly a great catch, at least not in the eyes of popular society. Leah thought he was wonderful, but most people didn’t agree with her.

Leah isn’t afraid of Fatin’s attraction to her because she’s still struggling with internalized homophobia, or even because Fatin is a girl on a pedestal. In the vicious world they had left behind, Fatin was so many rungs above Leah on the social ladder, they didn’t even exist in the same orbit. But the real reason Leah is afraid is because the last time she acted on attraction, she had let a man many years her senior gut her and throw her away. She had gotten her heart broken, crushed into little crystalline shards. Even worse, she had to face the fact that, despite her wanting it, maybe she had been victimized. That maybe she had been in love with him and that he had loved her back, but not because she was beautiful or smart or had an amazing personality. Maybe he had loved her in all the wrong ways, until his love was so twisted it didn’t even count as love. Maybe he had loved her because she was easy to use, vulnerable, someone who didn’t know any better. Maybe he had loved her the way a wildfire loves the helpless forest animals, burnt to death in their burrows, with nowhere to run. Maybe Leah had flayed herself out on a platter for him, and he had gladly stuffed himself with her insides. Maybe she wasn’t special, maybe she was just young and didn’t know when a man was a predator.

She had never wanted to be a victim, and it hadn't really hit her that she was one right away. It hadn’t sunk in until Fatin had implied it after reading his love notes in the book Leah had still been clinging to. Now she doesn’t know what to do with that. What to do with knowing she can’t be trusted to do what's best for her. What to do with her attraction, her stupid horny body and romantic mind. If she’d let her heart fuck her over once, who’s to say she’s not going to do it again? She can see herself letting Fatin kiss her here, only to find that Fatin has run back to camp to tell everyone that stupid, pathetic Leah had been dumb enough to believe Fatin actually had any interest in her.

Maybe she’s seeing the worst in people now, more than she should. She doubts Fatin is actually evil like that, but she doesn’t trust herself to judge people correctly anymore. She hadn’t seen the enemy in Jeff until too late, and she had made an enemy in Ian where there was only a friend trying to reach out to her.

So Leah looks down and folds her arms over her chest, trying to keep her voice casual as she says:

“Yeah, I don’t think I'm ready for that yet.”

Fatin looks sympathetic, pouting and patting Leah on the shoulder in an attempt at comfort.

“Aww yeah, your older man. Well, take your time, but I’d recommend moving on eventually, because I don’t think he’s coming back for you.”

Leah bites her lip, trying to keep control of herself as her heart jolts painfully. She hates Fatin’s uncanny ability to hit too close to the truth without knowing how right she is. Leah had called the bastard on Jeanette’s phone, more in need and helpless than she had ever been before, and she hadn’t even been able to beg him for help. She had let him tell her to leave him alone, and in doing so, condemned not only herself, but all the other girls to this island. They could all die because of her weakness. 

Leah feels her eyes get wet and she pushes herself up, knowing Fatin didn’t mean to hurt her, but also determined to not cry in front of her. So she manages an excuse about needing to pee and returns to the privacy of the tropical forest, leaving Fatin behind on the ridge. Leah is getting sick of crying, and what a stupid fucking waste, crying precious water out of her eyes, just because she’s too sad to do anything else.

She is getting angry now, more than heartbroken, and she lets the rage buoy her up until the tears stop. 

She isn’t crying over him anymore. She’s done. 

\-------------

Leah is lying prone on the black sand, which sticks to the underside of her body like it’s meant to be there. Making camp on the beaches means that they are almost never clean, the sand clinging to them, invading their clothes and getting in their hair. They’ve all kind of gotten used to being dirty all the time, which is quite unusual for girls who probably shower almost every day when they have the ability to do so. Leah has always showered routinely, almost religiously, that internalized teenage girl shame telling her she stinks if she goes a day without showering or using deodorant. Here there is no rose scented stick to rub under their arms, or perfume to spray on their wrists. They all stink, and no one much minds it at this point. It’s almost a relief, not worrying about body odor anymore. They have much larger things to worry about, like the basics of survival.

That, and Leah worries about something even larger. There is something going on here, some hidden plot that is making the island habitable, even if it isn’t welcoming. The patterns are all there: the pilot’s bag, the second lighter showing up, Jeanette packing water purification tablets on a trip to a resort in Hawaii. She would have been expecting to be handed expensive, name brand bottled water at their destination, why would she pack water purification tablets as if they were going camping? Jeanette knew something, and someone else on the island does too. Confronting Shelby and forcing her to reveal her dentures was unkind, but Leah knows she wasn’t wrong to press her. Someone is a spy, an agent. The pieces are all there, if only Leah could put the puzzle together.

Leah is so deep in thought she doesn’t notice Fatin’s approaching footsteps. She isn’t aware of the other girl until Fatin sits down with a thump and says loudly:

“You stargazing over here, all alone?”

Leah jumps, surprised by the sudden noise, and Fatin notices. She giggles, pats Leah on the shoulder, and says:

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Leah settles back down, tilting her head back to look at the sky again. She says:

“I’m not looking at the stars, I’m thinking.”

Fatin picks at the dirt under one of her toenails as she speaks fondly but with a teasing tone:

“Yeah, you seem to do a lot of that.”

Leah moves her eyes over to look at Fatin, not even turning her head, but smiles slightly. Fatin grins and continues to joke:

“I know, from my appearance, and my general vibes, that people might think there’s not a single thought in my pretty little head.”

Then she leans in close to Leah and stage whispers:

“I’ll let you in on a secret. I think all the time!”

Fatin widens her eyes and acts shocked, as if this was some amazing unbelievable thing. Leah chuckles, reaching a hand out to her, and jokes back:

“Well, I may be a nerdy girl who’s not a big fan of popular girls, but only men are unaware that women have rich inner lives. Even if you act as dumb as a rock, you’re still thinking hard about how to keep up that persona.”

Fatin takes Leah’s outstretched hand and says:

“I’m flattered that you would defend my honor and claim I’m actually quite intellectual.”

Leah leans in, adding to Fatin’s earlier lean inwards, moving them much closer together. Leah lets her head rest on Fatin’s lap. Fatin is holding Leah’s hand with one hand and she uses the other to start attempting to finger comb Leah’s tangled hair. It’s definitely a losing battle after days without conditioner, and with the effects of salt water and sand and sticks getting snarled in it. Even so, Leah appreciates the gentle touch. Not many people touch her hair, not even her parents or her friends. She wasn’t really interested in having her hair touched before the island, but now she enjoys it a lot, especially if it’s Fatin. After their first violent clash, and then the resulting make up hug, Fatin’s touch has changed. Now Fatin is always gentle and kind when she touches Leah, not treating her like she’s breakable, but with an inherent respect. She treats Leah like a person, not a thing. Leah appreciates it more than she’s ever said she does. So she looks at Fatin, meeting her beautiful dark eyes, and says softly:

“You are smart, Fatin, behind your facade. You’re not vacant and helpless and ditzy. You’ve got a mind like a steel trap, and an edge of meanness, that means you’ll use it. And I mean that as a compliment. A bright mind does nothing for you unless you have the willingness to put it to work.”

Fatin smiles, sunshiny and so wide it makes her cheeks scrunch up, and takes her hand from Leah’s hair to run down the side of her face and cup her cheek. Fatin whispers down to Leah, her eyes shining:

“You’re so sweet to me, Leah. ”

Leah blinks up at her, the warmth of the hand sinking into her cheek, in contrast to the slightly cool night air. She feels something rising in her stomach, something terrifyingly familiar, but also like nothing she’s ever experienced before. Falling in love feels different every time it happens. 

That thought scares her and she jumps to change the subject, and begins to speak about the only thing in her mind other than looking at Fatin’s lips. Leah rushes to say:

“It’s almost a relief, this thing with the island. I’ve forgotten about him. About Jeffery. He used to be all I thought about, but now my brain has moved on. I know something is happening here, and I’m going to find out what it is. I can’t think of anything else. I know it’s important, I see it in my dreams, I think about it in every waking moment, I will not give up until I’ve found the answer.”

Fatin sighs, her hand returning to Leah’s hair instead of the delicate touch against her cheek, and Leah feels both relieved and deeply sad, as if Fatin’s touch was becoming addictive. As if Leah’s body was getting used to having her touch Leah’s face so softly, the growing feeling as if there was nothing better than being touched by her. Fatin says gently but with an edge of disappointment: 

“Honey, I am all for you to stop thinking about that cradle robber, but I thought we were trying not to sound like a conspiracy theorist wearing a tinfoil hat.”

Leah feels a wave of hot anger, and she knows she could lean into it. She could use it to ignore the love blossoming in her ribcage, feed the anger and let it consume her completely. She could scream at Fatin, curse at her with every bad word Leah knows, and storm off. Fatin would huff and be irritated, but in the end they would reunite. Leah would apologize quietly and Fatin would say something like “I’m not trying to dismiss you, darling” and then they would go find something to eat. Then they would forget about it until the next time Leah decides to lash out. The anger is the easy way out, but suddenly Leah is thinking of Ian, and how she was so sure he was the one who ruined her relationship with Jeffrey. How it was so easy and satisfying to let the anger drive him out of her life. But then she thinks of hurting Fatin that way, so deeply that Fatin would have no choice but to leave Leah for her own safety. 

And Leah doesn’t want to be that person anymore. She wants to stop letting her brokenness make her lonely. She wants to try and keep Fatin, whether that’s as friends or whatever else this newborn thing in her chest wants them to be. But she knows one thing for sure; she wants Fatin to feel good about being around Leah. She wants to make Fatin feel good, the same way Fatin makes Leah feel good. Leah doesn’t know how loved Fatin was in her life before the island, but Leah wants to be able to make her feel loved now.

So Leah sighs deeply, letting the anger out with the deep breath, and doesn’t scream or curse. Instead she keeps her voice soft as she says:

“I am working on it. What do you want to talk about instead?”

Fatin grins at that and bobs her head excitedly, squeezing Leah’s hand with hers. She says cheerily:

“Well, the girls came up with an idea to have a fashion show tomorrow. You know, inventory the clothes we have, make cute outfits of them, and model them on a makeshift runway. I know you would look so hot in this one skirt I brought, it’s not really your style because it’s mine, but it is guaranteed to make your ass look amazing. ”

Leah laughs; she has rarely felt “hot” or any form of desirable, too busy worrying over pimples and body hair. But here on this island, covered in sand, with bags under her eyes, her skln sunburned, and her hair a mess, she suddenly feels like she could be beautiful. Fatin looks at her and sees something beneath all the exhaustion and messy clothing. She sees Leah as something more than her body. She sees Leah as something beautiful from the inside out because of who Leah is. And maybe, just maybe, Fatin even sees her as physically attractive.

So Leah smiles up at Fatin and says:

“That sounds great, I will gladly model your vision on the catwalk. I know you would beat out the best fashion designers, even with our limited options.”

Fatin giggles and pushes her long hair back over her shoulder, looking pleased with the compliment as she says:

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. I have carefully kept up with the fashion trends, though with how quickly they change, I’m sure my closet has become passe just in the time we’ve been here.”

Leah laughs and replies:

“Even if your outfits were out of fashion, you would still look like a supermodel in them.”

Fatin preens, pleased with the continuing compliments, but says:

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

Leah has the sudden urge to do something unexpected, something she may regret. Something that could be interpreted as too much, but Leah has always been too much. Too prudish, too bookworm, too weird, too unfriendly. She may as well lean into the role she’s been unwillingly cast in. So she doesn’t hesitate to lean upwards, pressing her back into Fatin’s chest, and places a quick kiss on Fatin’s cheek. Fatin blinks for a moment, the closest she’s ever been to surprised that Leah has seen. Leah’s stomach roils nervously, but she says casually:

“Not flattering, just speaking the truth.”

That breaks Fatin’s well hidden shock and she returns to her bubbly self as she says:

“Well, we better get some sleep, we’ll need to be well rested for the fashion show.”

Leah wiggles out of Fatin’s lap and stands, wiping some of the clinging sand off her legs, before extending a hand out to help Fatin up as she says:

“I won’t mind being near the fire again too, it’s getting kind of cold out here.”

Fatin takes the hand up and they begin the short walk back to the fire. Fatin speaks as they walk:

“The cuddling helps too, with the whole sharing body heat thing. And maybe the cuddling will also help with the general trauma.”

Leah grins even though it’s a reminder of all they’ve suffered so far, and could still suffer in the future. She says jokingly:

“I’ve never heard of a therapist prescribing cuddling before.”

Fatin swings their still interlocked hands as she bounces along, always strutting despite the lack of high heels and the only audience being Leah. She says:

“Well I may not be a therapist, but I would recommend cuddling for many ailments. Even if you feel bad, it’s better to feel bad with someone wrapping you up in a hug.”

They’ve reached the fire and the pile of the other girls, Marcus the mannequin in the middle and the rest of the girls curled up around him. They cuddle without shame, limbs awkwardly intertwined and heads pillowed on each other’s torsos. 

Leah sits down and scoots over to lie next to Dot, putting her head down on the curve of Dot’s hip. Fatin is considering a spot on the other side of the fire before she turns back to Leah and asks:

“Would you mind if I joined you tonight?”

This would not be the first time they’ve cuddled in the sleeping pile, the arrangements change often and they’ve ended up hugging each other in sleep before. But this will be something requested, something on purpose. Even so, it can still hide behind the simple necessity of keeping warm. It doesn’t have to mean anything. The question is, does Leah want it to mean something? Does Fatin?

Leah decides that, after making the risky decision to kiss Fatin’s cheek earlier, why not keep pushing the envelope. What’s the worst that can happen? She gets her heart broken, again, and has to deal with living in close quarters with an ex?

Put it that way, it sounds dangerous, but it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s a nebulous act, hidden behind a layer of deniability. So Leah speaks, smiling around the words:

“Yeah, come over here.”

Leah pats the sand next to her and Fatin doesn’t hesitate to place herself there, at Leah’s side. They stare at each other or a moment, neither laying down, before Fatin says with a hint of humor:

“I’m usually the little spoon, but if you feel like being the big spoon is too masculine, I can take that role instead.”

Leah pretends to gasp and says:

“Fatin? Doing something masculine? Say it isn’t so!”

Fatin giggles and says:

“You know I would kill it as a butch, admit it.”

Leah can, actually, almost see Fatin that way, stripped of all her girly girl pink and professionally painted nails. It’s not a bad image, though Leah thinks Fatin could look like a queen even dressed in a potato sack. So Leah gives in and flops down on the sand, her back against Dot’s front, and pats the sand in front of her again.

“Come here, my little spoon.”

Fatin wiggles her way into Leah’s arms and presses the line of her body up against Leah’s, Leah’s chest to Fatin’s back. Leah almost instantly feels warmer, cocooned in between Dot and Fatin. Fatin sighs and closes her eyes, getting ready to sleep, as she says:

“You can put your arm over me, I don’t mind.”

There’s really nowhere else to put Leah’s arms that is comfortable, so Leah takes the offer and puts an arm over Fatin. Fatin begins to breathe slower, calming herself in preparation to fall asleep, and Leah feels comfortable too. Fatin doesn’t speak again and it doesn’t take long for Leah to drift off to sleep.

\-----------------------

Fatin is leading the way into the forest behind the beach. Leah had tried to drown herself just a few minutes ago, running into the surf and swimming towards the nothingness of the unending water. She would have kept going until she was too exhausted to stay afloat and then she would have drowned. Fatin is still filled with fearful adrenaline at the thought of Leah dying out there. Rachel had managed to bring her back to the beach, mostly because Leah had been too exhausted from swimming to fight Rachel off. Fatin had held Leah in her arms and seen that suicidal glimmer in her eyes, the urge to just end all the fighting to survive. To give up and sink into the dubious embrace of the salt water. 

Fatin had known Leah wasn’t mentally stable, but she had hoped she wasn’t this bad. Fatin had given her the drugs to try and calm her down a couple minutes ago. The other girls had returned to their jobs, gathering food and water. Dot hadn’t had to ask Fatin to keep an eye on Leah; Fatin was not leaving her side. Leah had been content to lie limp on the beach for a couple minutes, before she had rolled over to face Fatin and said she needed to pee. So Fatin is taking her into the forest to do her business. 

As Fatin holds some low hanging branches out of Leah’s way, Leah stumbles along and says weakly:

“I don’t feel any calmer.”

Fatin can see Leah shaking all over. All of her energy had been sapped in the fight against the waves and all of her muscles are overworked. Her limbs are trembling, making it hard for her to walk. Fatin is patiently helping her along as she says gently:

“I know, sweetheart. The drugs are going to take a few minutes to hit you.”

Leah groans and barely manages to avoid a tree root perfectly placed to trip her up. She’s holding a hand to her forehead as she whines:

“I wish they’d hurry up.”

Fatin uses the back of Leah’s loose shirt to pull her to a stop. Leah teeters as she stops before turning to look at Fatin confusedly as she says:

“What?”

Fatin pats her on the back with the same hand she’d tangled in her shirt and says:

“We’re far enough from camp now, go ahead and take a leak.”

Leah nods, her head wobbling on her neck with the movement, like a bobblehead jarred by a sudden movement. She starts to crouch as Fatin turns away. Fatin looks up, taking in the many different shapes of leaves on the trees above them. They all merge together in a canopy of green, but they’re not all the same type of tree. Fatin doesn’t recognize any of them, which is no doubt because all these trees are tropical. She doesn’t expect to see the typical suburban oaks and pines in a climate as warm and wet as this. Still, she almost misses the familiarity of the trees she grew up with. It might be easier to tell if the food they scavenge for is edible or dangerous if they were in a familiar temperate zone. As it is they have developed a system: first they smear the berries on their skin and wait for a reaction. Then, if no one breaks out in hives, one of them tries eating a small amount. They draw straws for who has to be the tester each time. Then, after a couple hours, if the tester doesn’t vomit or keel over dead, they all take their share. So far, other than the mussels, they haven’t eaten anything poisonous yet. But there’s always a chance they will in the future.

Fatin gets lost in thought and jumps when Leah speaks behind her:

“I’m done.”

Fatin turns around and tries to give Leah a smile, even though she feels like breaking down and crying. But if she does that she has no doubt Leah would join her in sobbing and she doesn’t want to set Leah off. So she places a hand on Leah’s upper arm and says:

“Alright, you want to go back to camp?”

Leah nods slowly. Fatin starts to walk off only to notice that Leah isn’t following her. She turns around to see what’s wrong to find Leah fiddling with the hem of her shirt, looking nervous. Fatin steps back up to her and says:

“What’s wrong?”

Leah hesitates and finally speaks, not raising her eyes to meet Fatin’s:

“Are you angry with me?”

For a moment Fatin wants to let go of her attempts to keep a friendly facade going and snap, just like when she had smeared her own blood over Leah’s cheeks. She wants to be angry and scream out loud enough for every girl on the island to hear it, no matter how far away they are.

Because Leah had almost left her. Leah wanted to die, took action to make that happen, and left Fatin standing helplessly on the beach. Fatin typically let betrayals by her bitchy popular girl friends or her latest jock guy lay bounce right off. She had layers of emotional armor and the only thing that had broken it before was her father and mother. But somehow Leah had wormed her way in through the cracks and curled up right next to Fatin’s heart. And now Fatin can’t stand the thought of never seeing her again.

But then all the anger rushes out of Fatin, leaving her with a heavy vacuum left behind. Her ribcage feels empty and aching as she tries to gather herself to respond. She raises a hand to push the hair falling into her face back, only to notice she’s started shaking almost as badly as Leah is. Her emotions have broken through the protective dam inside of her and now she feels she’s drowning in them, like Leah had almost drowned. So she looks at Leah, who finally raises her blue eyes to meet Fatin’s stare. When Fatin speaks her voice is surprisingly calm and even:

“Leah, baby, I’m not angry at you. But Leah, listen to me, you cannot do that again.”

Fatin’s voice barely begins to waver as her emotions roil more strongly in her stomach. She continues:

“Rachel could have died trying to save you, and Leah, I can’t lose you.”

Leah looks slightly confused, as if Fatin being worried about her is strange, an atypical reaction. As if Leah isn’t worth worrying over. And that kicks Fatin in the gut and pushes her into action. She lunges forwards, until she’s close to Leah, and then she stops. After the sudden stop she continues more slowly, gently leaning in and cradling Leah’s face with her hands. As she speaks the emotions finally come through in her voice and she’s audibly choked up, trying to keep herself from crying as she says completely truthfully:

“Leah, you don’t see how beautiful you are, but if I could choose one person to make it off this island it would be you. You’re so bright, so whip smart, and so determined, and you deserve so much better.”

Leah obviously doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t pull away from Fatin’s touch as Fatin expects her to. Instead she leans her cheek into Fatin’s hands and raises a hand to one of Fatin’s, placing her cold hand over Fatin’s carefully. She says quietly but desperately:

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Fatin, but there’s got to be a way out.”

Fatin can see Leah’s eyes shining brighter in the diffuse sunlight as her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her voice turns rough and louder as she continues:

“I can’t stand being in this place much longer.”

Fatin struggles to find words to combat the desperation in Leah’s voice, the animal need to get out of the trap that’s closed around them. Coyotes will chew their own paw off if it’s caught in a trap, and Leah has that same potential for violence boiling under her skin. She’s pulled tight like a bow string, and she’s already snapped once. Fatin doesn’t know if she will do it again and find some other way to escape the island, if only in death. 

Fatin has been betrayed before, her father who was so kind and loving had turned out to be a dead end. His love had turned to vengeance and he had taken it out on Fatin in a way that no thousand dollar suitcase could fix. She has burned the place he had in her heart to ashes, but it still aches to this day. Now she’s holding Leah, as softly as she held her little brothers or her friend’s pet guinea pig. Is Leah another dead end, another doomed love? Is she going to leave Fatin with another hole in her chest, to add to the ache?

Fatin had been lucky enough to not love anyone sucidal until now, and it’s a harsh realization that she may not be able to save Leah. She struggles to breathe in the heavy tropical air of the jungle, the panic she felt when Leah had charged into the surf returning. She isn’t willing to give up, there has to be something she can do to help Leah. So she crashes forwards in an inelegant movement, pressing their foreheads together, looking into Leah’s face mercilessly. She will not turn away. For one of the few times in her life she wants to fight for someone, to love them through their ups and downs, and not throw them away as soon as things get difficult. So she tries to breathe deep and speaks to Leah. Her voice is almost a whisper, but she knows Leah is able to hear her, with their heads so close together. She says:

“Leah, I know we’re all going crazy but please, stay with me. Survival won’t be easy but I promise it will be worth it.”

Leah has squeezed her eyes shut and is shaking her head weakly, her face filling with despair. She gasps out:

“I can’t--”

Fatin strengthens her grip on Leah, holding her head still and forcing her to look at Fatin as she says:

“I know you can. I know you're strong enough to fight it.”

Her voice cracks, emotion spilling out of her in her voice as she says:

“Leah, I don’t want to survive without you. I want to go live my dream life in a city and never have to shit in the woods again but I want to do it with you at my side.”

But then the emotion changes, the grief and fear fading until she’s almost crooning. Her voice is soft and filled with love as she says:

“Leah, I love you.”

The confession, more than anything, makes the tears gathering in Leah’s eyes spill over, dripping down her cheeks. She sobs once, heavily, and drops her gaze as she says: 

“Fatin, I’m not worth it.”

Fatin hisses an enraged breath out over her teeth and says with all the conviction gathered in her chest:

“Don’t you fucking dare say that. Don’t let what the world has said get to you and tell you you’re ugly and sad and broken. I wouldn’t be in love with you if you weren’t a good, interesting, smart, worthwhile person. I’ve fucked my way through the majority of our high school but I’ve never been in love like this before.”

Leah is whimpering weakly, her eyes closed as the tears continue to wet her cheeks. It’s as if thinking she’s something worthwhile is alien to her, even painful.

Fatin feels the determination only get stronger; she’s not going to let Leah continue thinking she’s not lovable. Fatin loves her and all the other girls love her too. She’s no longer alone; she has built a family here. So Fatin continues to speak without hesitation: 

“Leah, the way I feel about you, I don’t need anyone else. You are enough for me, you are what I want.”

Finally Leah goes still, her only motion the tears rolling down her cheeks, but even that is slowing. She looks at Fatin, and doesn’t look away. Fatin can see something growing in her eyes, a sudden realization, that Fatin isn’t lying or making this up. Leah is beginning to look at Fatin as if she was the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Fatin knows that’s how she’s looking at Leah, as if Leah was a holy, hallowed thing. Leah, with all her flaws and fears, is still the most beautiful thing she’s seen. Fatin smiles suddenly, her heart overflowing with the love she’s feeling. She whispers around the smile:

“Leah, you don’t have to say or do anything. You don’t have to love me back, you can say you want to be friends and I will be happy just to be at your side. I just want to have you with me, however this ends. Live or die, I want to do it holding your hand.”

Fatin is shocked to realize she’s started crying now. She hates crying, hates making her vulnerability visible to the world. But then Leah smiles and it’s okay; Leah is broken and so is Fatin, and they will find a way to fit their shattered pieces together. They love each other and there will be no judgment, no gossip spread behind backs or confessions laughed at. Even in the dangerous environment of this deserted island, they are each other’s safety. Leah has slowly begun to smile too, a slight curve of her lips that grows into a happy baring of teeth. Then she moves the last bit of distance forwards and gently, slowly, kisses Fatin’s tear stained cheeks, one after the other. As she pulls back she whispers:

“I love you, Fatin. I think I have for a while, but I was afraid, I tried to hide it from myself. But I’m tired of being afraid all the time. I think it’s time to push forward, forget the fear, and love recklessly.”

Fatin giggles, overwhelmed but joyful, feeling like an innocent schoolgirl blushing in a movie. She runs her fingers down the sides of Leah’s cheeks, dropping her hands away from her face. But then she reaches out again and takes one of Leah’s waiting hands in her own. She says truthfully:

“I know this doesn’t fix anything. I know you are still struggling and that my love can’t cure any of your issues. But I will stay by your side as you work on getting better. ”

Leah squeezes their palms together and intertwines their fingers softly. She says equally honestly:

“Thank you. I’ve always pushed people away and not let them help me. But I do want to be better. And I think letting you support me is one of the first steps.”

Fatin leans in to press their sides together as she says:

“You’re my beautiful warrior, I know you’ll win this fight.”

Leah laughs, raising a hand to hide her face, a bright red blush covering her cheeks. She says:

“I’ll try.”

Fatin laughs too and teases:

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

Leah lets her hand fall, revealing her face, and watches Fatin as she says:

“And you’re a goddess, as usual.”

Fatin grins and throws her hair over her shoulder as she says jokingly:

“This is my deserted island beauty routine, it’s mostly doing nothing.”

Leah replies lovingly:

“I like you this way, you look real.”

Fatin bats her eyelashes for a moment before pulling Leah forwards by their linked hand as she says:

“Come on, let’s get back to camp. Today’s my do nothing day and I want to take a nap.”

Leah follows Fatin without complaint and they quickly make their way back to the beach. Fatin takes a seat by the fire and pats the sand next to her. Leah quickly and gratefully collapses down; as they had gotten close to camp her legs had gotten increasingly wobbly. She flops down on the sand and explains:

“The drugs are definitely hitting me now.”

Fatin joins her in lying down and wiggles closer until she’s in the curve of Leah’s body, their sides pressed together. She pillows her head on Leah’s shoulder, not concerned with Rachel working on keeping the fire going, and whispers:

“Sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Leah wraps an arm around Fatin, smiling at the new pet name, but her eyes quickly fall shut. Fatin cuddles a little closer and joins her in sleep.

\-----------

**Author's Note:**

> I know Fatin using pet names for Leah isn't exactly canon but I feel it suits her


End file.
